Code Yellow

About a month ago at the checkout counter of the grocery store, I asked Matalley to put some trash in the trashcan that was about 5 feet from where we were standing. I turned back to Lola and then heard what I thought was Matalley playing around the cart. After a few minutes I realized the noise was not Matalley and looked over at the cart. Panic set in as I frantically searched for her. I ran up and down the front of the store, out to the parking lot, up and down the front of the store again, back to where the clerk was still scanning my items, up the front of the store again, and finally down to guest services where I loudly yelled, my daughter is missing (apologies to the individuals I cut in front of). They called a "code something or other" over the loud speaker and a couple clerks ran to the entrance to stop anyone leaving. They asked me what she was wearing, height, etc. and about that time, Miss M comes confidently to the front of the store smiling away. Apparently she decided to use the trashcan back in the meat section. I'm sure she went the most non direct route as well. I was relieved, exhausted, mortified, and a bit frustrated. Also unfortunately, Matalley learned nothing from her escapade...she knew exactly what she was doing and found me right where she left me. Badum-ch (as Matalley says).

Fast forward a month to Monday. The kids and I went to Target to get some goodies for Matalley's party. The kids were in rare form (well typical form for them of going crazy in the store but rare for normal human behavior). Grayson was sticking close to the cart and pretend shooting Matalley whenever she came near. She was therefore forced to hide amongst shelving units and hanging racks. No amount of threats, angry voice, stares, etc. could convince them to just get through the trip.

It's frustrating when having already threatened and followed through with eliminating any birthday party remnants in the cart, you have 5 things in your cart (3 of which must be purchased for self) and you can't just abandon the cart. That would only cause more headaches because it requires another trip to the store at another inconvenient time and who has any time anyway? So I made my weary way to the checkout counter...all the while yelling at Grayson to stop and for Matalley to get back in the cart. While she's hiding behind a sock display, I'm anxiously trying to check out. We head to the exit and it's a repeat of above....no Matalley. Grayson immediately freaks out that I am going to leave her and asks if he can go get her. Poor little Lola is hungry and has a wet diaper and I'm just praying for self control. After a minute or so, I realize not only is Matalley still no where to be found, but Grayson has disappeared as well. At this point, I can't leave the front because if Grayson returns, he'll think I left him (considered at some point during all of the chaos). I could leave the cart with Lola as proof I am still around, but what if someone takes her while I'm looking for the other 2? Then I started to panic, what if someone took Matalley, and that is the reason Grayson didn't find her? I decide it's best to ask a clerk to stay with Lola at the front while I do a quick run around the store. The clerk however, immediately radios in a code "yellow."

Have you ever seen a code yellow? Red shirts come out magical doors and barricade the front like the national guard. I had no idea so many team members lived at Target but that's the only logical explanation for how many arrived so quickly. Again, about this time, Matalley makes a grand appearance...no worse for the wear. She decided to go look at toys for Lola..."they were cute." She knew exactly where she was and again, she came back to where she left me. I'm trying to get them to call off the code yellow...really, I just need a babysitter for the cart. And finally convince them to page Grayson over the loud speaker. Poor Grayson comes to the front crying, "I lost my best friend forever!!" and cue Matalley smiling. Red shirts disappear behind secret walls and again, I am mortified.